


Dance With the Dragon

by Hera_Sith



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen or Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 15:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hera_Sith/pseuds/Hera_Sith
Summary: Viserys finds out he is the Dragon when he survives getting his Golden Crown from his sister's husband. He escapes, events transpire, and he eventually finds himself allied with the Martells and the Boltons.Now, Viserys, Ramsay, and Oberyn must eradicate the opposition and secure the army Viserys needs to take the Iron Throne.





	Dance With the Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in an AU after Ramsay was legitimized but before he had to marry Sansa. Roose has already been killed off, Ramsay is the Lord of the Dreadfort (therefore he’s not forced to marry her). The overall timeline is also slightly altered due to the effects of Viserys surviving his golden crown.

The door hits the wall with a loud bang, the strength behind the slam almost causing it to swing shut again. However, a pale hand catches it before deep violet eyes glare at the man currently holding a flaying knife over the… whatever the fuck Reek is. 

“Twenty men?!” Viserys yells as he slams the door behind himself. His head is aching almost as badly as it did when he hit the ground with cooled gold encasing it. “Remind me again why I align myself with the Boltons. I’d love for someone to assure me I’m not as crazy as my father.”

Ramsay ceases all movement, though Reek’s lowered head never even glances in the direction of the new presence. Ramsay eventually turns around, gesticulating with the flaying knife as he smirks, “Now, now, your Highness. I assure you they’re twenty of my best men.” 

Viserys walks steadily closer, visibly unmoved despite Ramsay’s knife swinging around. “More things could go wrong than your pet here could count!” Viserys rubs his temples for a moment before shaking his head, “Though your father’s idea was even less appealing. I don’t have time for this! I need to have complete control over the North!”

Ramsay stares cooly at the platinum-haired man as he stays his knife hand, “What would you recommend then, my King?” 

Viserys reaches for the hand currently holding the knife, guiding it outwards as he steps closer. He stares directly into Ramsay’s eyes, the corners of his lips twitching as the no-longer-bastard allows the Targaryen to guide him, “I’m going to burn it.” 

Ramsay raises his eyebrows in amusement, “You do realize you’re the only one of us who’s fireproof?” 

Viserys’ smile grows slowly until so many teeth show his inhumanly beautiful face appears sharklike, “Not for long.” 

Ramsay licks his lips, shaking his head as he flexes the hand Viserys still has in his grip, “I do so enjoy your ominous promises.” 

~*~*~

“They were convinced that burning a small child and myself alive was going to get Stannis Baratheon closer to the throne,” Viserys says with a smirk as one of his baby dragons nuzzles his face. “I discouraged them of the notion and became a father in the process.”

In truth, the only annoying aspect of being fireproof is the fact that everything else around him burns. His clothes, hair ties, even shoes if he stays in long enough. He’d particularly liked the cloak he was wearing. 

Sometimes he wonders what it must be like to get sunburned.

Ramsay raises both his eyebrows, smile plastered on his face as he glances between Viserys and the three dragons climbing all over him, then to Oberyn,who just arrived with the Martell army. 

“I believe my twenty good men had something to do with it,” Ramsay says as he throws a bloodied napkin absently behind him. Surely Reek will pick it up eventually or perhaps Ramsay will flay another finger. He’ll decide which one later. 

Viserys eyes the napkin for a moment before exchanging a look with Oberyn.

“Yes, they did an admirable job of cutting me down once the pike stopped burning,” Viserys says, petting the dragon currently laying on his head and dangling its tail down his neck. Another one curls up around his boots, asleep, while the third one curls around his shoulders like a scarf. “My children did the rest of the work.”

“So fun to have two cranky, beautiful young men around me almost all the time,” Oberyn says, wide smile on his face as he looks between the two. “However, I for one am exhausted after worrying about Viserys all day and would like to get to the bed Ramsay kindly bestowed upon me before the sun comes up.” 

“We’ll take a look at the new recruits tomorrow,” Ramsay confirms as he glances toward the window. The moon is already high in the sky. 

~*~*~

Oberyn and Ramsay conduct the trials and introduction of Stannis’ old army into Viserys’ army. Having all witnessed the Dragon King survive the pyre while Stannis was burned alive, they now believe Viserys is the true King, which is just fine with him. He’ll need all the help he can get defeating both the Lannisters and his sister, whose dragons have had much longer to grow and learn. 

The little girl meant to burn on the pyre was spirited away before they could get to her. 

“That was quite an impressive performance you gave yesterday,” Mel says to Viserys while he overlooks the proceedings. 

Viserys smirks, shaking his head, “Even if I was inclined to prove myself to you, there’d be no point. Your king is dead, your king’s army is now mine, and you have blindly followed because no one else wants you.” 

“You overestimate yourself,” she begins before Viserys interrupts her.

“Everyone underestimates me!” Viserys yells loudly enough for his dragons to eagerly fly to him, sensing his raising temper. “I’ve been underestimated my entire life by scum no better than the snow beneath my boots. I’ve had my sister underestimate me and try to burn me alive. You overestimate your usefulness. You overestimate your worth. You overestimate the worthless God that you follow.” 

By this point, everyone is watching them, staring at the man surrounded by dragons and the advisor to the dead one. Oberyn places a hand on Ramsay’s shoulder when he moves in their direction.

Viserys pointedly raises his voice so everyone could hear him, “You are worth nothing. You were going to kill a little girl so you wouldn’t have to wear an extra cloak this winter. You have awoken the Dragon!”

Viserys reaches for Mel’s arm, though she twists in such a way that he only grabs hold of the horrendously gaudy necklace she’s wearing. He rips it backwards, aiming to pull her forward by the neck when instead, the entire thing comes off her neck. He hisses and throws it behind himself, about to try again when the woman screams and tries to run for it. 

This time, he is successful at grabbing her arm, though it begins to get skinnier before his very eyes. He wrenches her back in front of himself, eyes widening as he lets out a hiss of disgust; the once-beautiful young woman now appears ancient. Almost everyone observing them gasps. 

“Well then,” Viserys says, overcoming his shock rather quickly. “At least now the outside matches the inside.” 

He throws her to the muddy snow-covered ground and finally points at her, nudging his children, “Drakarys.” 

All three dragons blow fire at her in tandem, her screams echoing off the walls of the Dreadfort until they cease. Once finished, they all look back at Viserys as if asking if they did a good job. 

“You were magnificent, my darlings,” he coos, smiling widely at them before he picks up the necklace. “Enjoy your breakfast.” 

~*~*~

“So what have you named them?” Oberyn asks during dinner that night, gesturing towards the three dragons currently curled up near the fireplace. 

“Surely something annoyingly hard to pronounce,” Ramsay says, rolling his eyes. “Why can’t people just name their children one-syllable words in Common?”

Viserys huffs before taking a sip of his water. He hasn’t so much as smelled alcohol since that fateful day his drunkenness ruined everything. “I understand you’re new to the lordship, Lord Bolton, but tradition is a high motivator,” he begins with a sarcastic air. “Besides, who would fear a dragon named Bob?” 

Oberyn laughs, “Sometimes I forget that there’s a sense of humor beneath all those layers of sass.” He takes a sip of his wine, “I’m still waiting on the names though.” 

“I take offense to that,” Ramsay says, pointing at Viserys. “I have upheld the Bolton flaying tradition extremely well.” 

“How could we forget? The damned reminder is flying on all your flags,” Viserys smirks. He turns back to Oberyn, “The black one’s name is Aegion, the silver one’s Gelion, and the gold one’s name is Aeksion.” 

Ramsay groans before taking a vicious bite of meat, “I’m never going to remember that.” 

“This is why when I’m king, all the Lords will be required to learn High Valyrian,” Viserys announces. “Those filthy Baratheons and Starks have absolutely no class. All brawn, no brains.” 

“The exact reason why Baratheon rule will be but a moment in history compared to the Targaryens,” Oberyn smiles. “One should strive to be everything.” He leans toward Ramsay and whispers, “And I’m sure you’d get a private lesson from our King if you ask nicely.” 

The fucker even winks at him before he continues eating.

**Author's Note:**

> I've honestly never seen anyone write a fic featuring these three characters, but I thought they would work well together. After rewatching the series, I couldn't help but wonder how remaking the alliance with the Martells and Targaryens would go along with the Boltons. Viserys, Ramsay, and Oberyn were my three favorite characters, though their endings came about much too soon. 
> 
> Anyway, These are just snippets from the verse I'd like to create. If anyone is interested in more, please let me know. Thanks for commenting and kudos...ing?


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